


Batman/Joker week

by orphan_account



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batman/Joker week, M/M, Suicide, Tumblr, madni
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-11 15:54:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1174945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I've decided to do the Batman/Joker week hosted by Madnizilla on tumblr. :D</p><p>Of course, it's dedicated to Batsy and Mr J, may they live long and prosper-wait, wrong fandom.</p><p>Thank you for ready! Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The first time they kissed, it was not a hard, lust-filled that they both expected.

Batman corners the Joker in a alleyway with no exit, just like so many times before, when they challenged each other to this twisted game of  cat and mouse.

There is no way to tell who is the cat and who is the mouse.

Except all the times before, he pulls himself away from those lips he wants to attack and devour. He pulls himself away because he knows he  will sink. 

They had sex, and it was just sex. Nothing more or less than lust filled  escapades that escalated to...this.

 He never kissed the Joker, because it would tie them together and he is  Batman and Batman can’t let anything like that happen. 

Going in too deep was never his plan, but he is lying, cheating to himself that  he has not fallen. Fallen hard for the clown that blazed into his city and his life  like a 

Destructive flame that burned everything in his path and consumed him, from skin to bone to hair to the kevlar plates that is like a part of  himself.

\---------------------

Joker can tell what the bat is thinking. Never turning down the prospect of a  good fuck with him, the Bat refuses to ever set his lips on his, as if all the morals he had would flow out of his mouth and down the sewage  drain. Heh.

Then the bat pressed his lips on his mouth, and the Joker grins against the  kiss. It was softer than what he liked, but he enjoyed the victory. It sang  through  his veins and lit a fire in his belly.

Bruce kisses the Joker for the first time, and he knows that he has lost the  game they have been playing for months and months. He cannot bring  himself to face everything he has worked for, all these years and years of training and hard work is ruined by the enigma that is the Joker

Except that he cannot hate the clown for doing this to him, because he did it to himself and Bruce hated himself too much for him to hate anyone else.

He hated himself because he let the Joker win.

When they broke apart, the Joker grins, baring his teeth and meets Batman’s eyes. He wins. He loses. Does it even matter? He supposes that it matters to Batsy, but all he cares about is getting what he wants. 

 

-An: So yeah, I guess this comes of as angsty. And eh, very, very typical of them :D


	2. 2. Padded cell for two

Fancy seeing you here, Batty-bat!” The Joker grins and scoots close to Bruce, who is also in an orange jumpsuit.

 

“What do you want, clown?!” Brucie growls, sounding more like Batsy, then. The Joker stumbles on one of the paddings and crashes into Batman, sending them both to the floor.

 

“Ow.”

 

‘Get. Off. Me.” Batman growls again. Do the guy do nothing but growl and sound like he just ate a packet of cigarettes?

 

“Nah, Bats, think I quite like, ah, being here~” The Joker giggles at Batman’s obvious discomfort. Looks like his little Bat is in quite the pinch!

 

“Looks like they caught ya!” The Joker laughs as Batman nudges the clown off him and leans against the wall.

The anger at the clown’s words rolls of Bruce and he wishes that his mask is here to hide his face.

 

The Joker sensed the anger rolling off Batman. No need to look at Brucey’s face, oh no no no.

He can feel the pulse of the air change, fizzing and sizzling in comparison to the usual boring drugged calmness of Arkham. 

He can feel what people think, but usually what people think is boring and unappealing to him.

 

Now Batsy...The air around him feels delicious.

 

And Batsy is glaring at him now, and the anger is under control. But it is always there, a tantalizing fruit.

 

“Now, Batty batty bat!” The Joker coos, his eyes filled with the worship he has for his god. And now they are locked in a room together, it seems. Arkham is not as bad as he thought anymore.

“So how did they catchya, batssss?” 

The clown says, haughty and annoying as Bruce attempts to ignore him. But the question hits too close to home.

 

“That is none of your business.” Some nameless employee at Wayne enterprises found all the weaponry and ran to the media before he and Fox could contain it.

Then he tries to push it off as him just being the funder for Batman and some rookie cop found the entrance to the cave.

 

But there is no way he will tell the Joker that. The clown would laugh and laugh and laugh as if his laughter is not already embedded into his mind like sharp knives digging into his brain.

“C’mon, Batsy~” The Joker leans close. Too close. They have done things like this before, bruising kisses and quick, rough rutting in dirty backalleys. Nothing like this, at least, when they are both tied up.

The Joker tries to lean in and falls flat on his face. Bruce tries to stifle a laugh.

 

“You laughed, I heard it!” The Joker mumbles, voice muffled.

“Go to hell.” Bruce replies, too tired by the events to stop himself from slipping into routine banter with the clown when all masks are off.

 

“We’re already in hell, Batsy. Better make the best of it.” The Joker snips back with a wolfish grin.


	3. 3. Anniversary

  
“Well Batsy, it’s a speh-cial day today,isn’t it?” The Joker wraps his arms around Batman’s shoulder, back in another alleyway. There seems to be an impossible number of those just lying around Gotham.

Batman’s shoulders are still stiff and his eyes are burning. Burning with the familiar anger that is so typical of Bats, stick-up-his-arse guy he is.

“Now now, batsss...”

Batman growls and shove the clown away. Of course he knows what day this is. One month since the twisted beginnings of this sick ‘relationship’ and here the madman is, rubbing it in his face.

“You blew up a school.” Batman glares at the Joker. The clown has absolutely no respect for human life. Insanity defines him.

“Most of ‘em escaped, Brucey.” The Joker tilts his face up to face Batman.

“Seventeen dead and fifty injured.” Bruce says numbly, wondering why the hell is he not pounding the Joker into the pavement with his fists.

“Not much, right?” The Joker smiles, eyes crinkling up. Maybe he meant it “Happy anniversary, Batty-”

“I hate you.” Batman snarls and something akin to sadness flickers on then off the Joker’s face.

Batman punches him in the face and the clown hoots in laughter like sharp, hyena snips. Fake.

* * *

 

  
One year after the start of everything, Bruce, not Batman stands at the same spot and places a solid red rose onto the ground of that alley way.

“Sorry.” He whispers but that is of no use.

“It’s been three months, you know.” A thick depression settles over his mind. By the rose there are two other flowers, withered and dry due to the Gotham summer.

“I suppose it was my fault.” Batman did not fly out into the night for three days as Bruce shut himself into his room.  
The image of the Joker, eyes blank and wide and accusing and lifeless, slit wrists bleeding out on the ground in the alleyway-

“Nothing I can do now, right?”

All the hateful words he spat, the times when he pushed the man away when he was looking for attention, even after he tried to stop killing people for him-

‘I hate you

You are nothing

Nothing but a monster

Go away

Just leave already

You never really tried

Fake

There is nothing between us and you know it

Good for nothing but a good fuck

Leave

No.’

“I suppose I just let you- fall- like I promised not to.”

“Would you tell me not to mourn?” Bruce asks. In a way he was glad no one else found the Joker in that isolated area. He cremated the clown and buried his ashes and the purple suit and everything else underneath the loose tiles.

“I suppose you would.” He hoped that the Joker can hear him. “I should have told you that I love-loved you.”

“I never hated you. Just myself.”

“I still hate myself.”

The blood pooling around the lifeless body and the empty eyes that stares into his soul the paint mostly washed away by the rain lips apart as if calling for something or someone-

“I visit you as Batman, too. But you know that already.” Sometimes Batman just sits there against the wall and contemplates taking a batarang and slitting his own wrists.

“I’d hear you. Telling me not to. Am I hallucinating?”

Bruce leans against the wall and stares down at the flower and tile and brick of part of old-Gotham that has never really been rebuilt.

“Roses is a bit cliched, but I can’t think of anything else.”

“Next time I could bring you a purple flower or something. Anything.”

“I miss you.”

He should have noticed, the way the Joker seemed to slip away from him everytime he insulted him.

“Thank you for trying, you know. I never appreciated it, but-”

Bruce wiped his face of the tears that slid from his eyes, unknown to him until he taste salt in his mouth or feel wetness against his face.  
“I wish that I could just go back to time, you know. Fall asleep and wake up three months earlier. A year earlier and change everything. When there is still life in your eyes.”

Bruce would stay there for the entire night. Most of the time he is only there for a short while to press a kiss to the ground, other times he pour his heart out or just talk about mundane things.

“You used to talk so much. I never did and now I can feel the silence.”

In this abandoned side of the city there is no noise but Bruce knows that at the other side, night life would be bustling. None cared about what is happening in this desolate corner.

“It’s been three months. I miss you.”

“Please. Come back.”

Bruce talked and talked and talked, filling the silence left by the void in his heart.

 

Time passed quickly when he is like this, Bruce thought as the sky becomes slightly purple at the edges. He should be leaving now, but he still has something to say.

 

He leans down to kiss the spot where he knows his other half lies.

“It’s been a year since we- you know. I never got to know you, really.”

 

“Happy anniversary.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for that plot twist?


	4. 4. Voyeur

Voyeur

“Never took you for one to watch, Bats?” The Joker shoos away the pretty blond girl. She giggles and kisses him on the cheek and hums and skips away.

“I have no interest in your…extracurricular activities…” Batman rasps and the Joker continues to laugh, not bothering to cover himself up in this dingy apartment when it is only the bat and the clown.

“Good to see.” The Joker replies. He seems to have gotten over the fact that Bruce decided to end this fairly quickly.

Bruce kisses him, kisses the taste of Harley and Edward and all the other men and women that he has seen with the Joker away. “Why?” He asks but he knows the answer.

The Joker scoffs. “You think that you keep pushing me away and I’ll just come back every single time?” He was addicted, but even then the Bat pushed. Insults and glares do nothing,really but it is just, well, insulting.

Batman did not say anything to counter him.

“I’m over ya, bats. Like you said for, what, ten times? Can’t do this anymor-”

Batman cuts off with a bruising kiss and yanked the clown’s arms, forcing them down so that he cannot slither and struggle away from Bruce’s hold.”

“Don’t. Go. Away.” He groans, unclasping the mechanics on his suit and pulls his boxers down.

The Joker struggles again, pupils blown.

“Get away from me. Get out!”  
Batman grunts and clasps a hand over the clown’s neck.

“You think that you can just-”

He thrusts against his stomach as the man attempts to get his hand off his neck. The Joker is strong for such a wiry creature, but Batman has greater strength and muscle power.

The clown’s eyes rolls back and be falls into unconsciousness. Bruce hopes that the girl he has seen with him before is still here so she can watch and know who the Joker really belong to.

  
He penetrated the man beneath him, holding his bruised hips in place as he moves hard and fast, groaning loudly at the whimpers the Joker makes even in his paralyzed state.

A red string of blood slides down the madman’s thigh.

Batman grunts his release in the warmth, and, not bothering to clean up and leaving the evidence to taunt the clown of his ownership.

When he wakes, the Joker did not move in his state of numbness, even as the blood and semen mixes and dries between his legs.

Bruce washes his face and sits down, hard, cracking his knuckles on the bathroom tile. What the hell did he just do?

But there is no use for regrets. The things he has done cannot be taken back or forgiven by mere words.

The world turns again and the stars reassemble themselves, but-

Life goes on, because what else can they do?


	5. 5. Lipstick and bruises

Lipstick and Bruises.

The Joker giggles as he pulls up his skirt a little. Poor little Batsy is stuck at work tonight, and shouldn’t he give him a visit?

Tucking a lipstick into his skirt pocket, the Joker twirls, letting the pink plaid skirt with red and purple stripes and the bow tie at the front, ending at around his knees-

The form-fitting top is a smoky black and sleeveless. Mmhm. Mister J likey.

Brucey is in for a big surprise, hehe. Batman seems to think that as long as he is Bruce Wayne the Joker would never bother with him.

Well, he is wrong. Joker wants him. He wants to take every inch of Batman’s soul and meld it together with the tattered remains of his, to create a perfect mold of imperfect souls, devouring and all-consuming-

He takes a purple suit top(not his usual ones) and pulls it on in one fluid movement. Putting a scarf on and tying his hair up in a low pony tail, he is pretty sure no one would recognize him.

The Joker hates disguises. The process of masking himself is fascinating, but after he finishes a cloud of suffocating smog settles over his eyes. The way people move around him like a river of dead fish-

The way that he cannot feel, like his senses are muted. His eyes cannot see as far. He wants to rip the scarf off so he can sense the air on his scars and taste Gotham on his tongue.

He wants to run and dump green paint on his hair so the wind rushing through it feels more real.

The Joker wants to smear lipstick on his lips.

He is immensely relived when he got to Wayne Enterprises. With quite a few cat-calls from the men walking or driving by, too. He would rip their eyes out when he has the time.

 

 

  
It only takes faking a sickly sweet voice and batting his eyelashes to get over the security. He should tell bats that it sucks.

Well, he had to knock Brucie’s secretary out with chloroform, but he is prepared.  
Once the Joker, wants to do something, he does it and he does it good.

Bruce appears surprised for a second, and then angry.

“Joker. Get out.”

“Aww Bats!” The Joker grins and rips off his scarf. He can breath again. Taking out a tube of lipstick, he applies it so that it smears over his scars and leans over to wrap his arms around Bruce’s neck, leaving lipstick stains all over the back of his suit.

Bruce glares at the Joker. “Get out.” “Don’t cha want me here, batty?” The clown prince grins and Bruce grits his teeth. The red lips stands out from his unpainted face and the smell of roses and mint attacks his nose.

Leaning down to grab the clown roughly, Bruce feels slightly victorious as he elicit a small moan from the Joker as he presses his fingers to his neck, leaving bruises.

The Joker growls when Bruce pulls away, slightly breathless and with lipstick all over his face.  
Pushing the Batman over, he straddles his waist, the skirt pooling around their thighs.

Bruce groans as the Joker grinds down hard, throwing his head back as the skirt bobs up and down.

The he stops and rolls of him.

“Lemme do this, bats.” The Joker licks his lips and Bruce finds himself anticipating what would happen next.  
Pulling at the pants of the five thousand dollar suit and dragging down the boxers painfully slowly, it takes every single ounce of Bruce’s self control not to flip the Joker over and fuck him into oblivion.

He gasps as the Joker leans down and take a tentative lick at the head of his length, and then swallow it, inch by inch.

Bruce kept eye contact with the Joker the whole time, poison green against sea blue, but his eyes often slipped downwards, seeing the impossibly red lips enclose his swollen cock.  
Then the Joker lets go with a ‘pop’ and grabs the tube of lipstick, reapplying it while Bruce stares in fascination at the way bright red encloses those lips yet again while experiencing the worst case of blue balls he has ever had.

Then he stands up and slips the pink lacey panties off, lifting one foot up, then another. Bruce’s eyes traveled with the pink cloth, and, when the Joker threw it at him, he stuffed it into his breast pocket.

The Joker strides over and sits onto Bruce’s lap, leaning over, taking his hundred-dollar tie and pulling them close together.

“I want you to make me scream.” The clown murmurs sensually into the playboy vigilante’s ear.  
“Oh, I will.” Bruce chuckles, eyes dark with lust.

The Joker starts rubbing his backside up and down against Bruce’s exposed and lipstick covered length. “Dammit.” Bruce growls and pulls the Joker close so that he sits in his lap and squeezes his cheeks, leaving bruises where his hands went and drawing throaty moans from the clown.

“God, bats, just fuck me already!” The Joker half sobs and half laughs as Bruce licks and sucks at his neck, leaving bite marks and red markings that shows the world who exactly the mad clown belongs to.

“My pleasure.” Bruce positions himself and thrusts up. His office is on the top floor and there are a few more floors between his and the rest of the employees. People would have to fly over in a helicopter to actually see him.

The tight, wet warmth engulfs him and Bruce gasps, digging his nails and breaking Joker’s skin, the madman writhing in pleasure and agony. “Fuck, bats-ah-!”

“Fuck.” Bruce rasps. “C’mon, move it! Move your ass-” Joker’s spine curves up as he grinded down, taking in the- “Fuck, yes!” Bruce yells again. The Joker finds that as long as he is not Batman he talks. He talks a lot and he talks dirty.

“You like it?” Bruce pants and growls, eyes raking over the clown’s exposed body. “You like it when I fuck you, don’t you?” The Joker giggles as he continues to ride Bruce.

The screams and groans he made sends a shiver down Bruce’s spine and sparks to pool at his abdomen.

“Stop. Moving.” Bruce orders. He will climax right there if the Joker keeps shifting around like that.

“Just- bend me- gwah- over! And FUCK-! AH!” He grips at Bruce’s shoulders, biting through the fabric and at the skin.

Pulling out despite the desperate need to just finish there, Bruce throws the Joker on the ground and pushes.   
And then they were a wild, writhing mess on the floor, Bruce slamming into the Joker as they both scream obscenities and clutch onto each other for dear life.

Sparks fly in his eyes as Bruce hits his prostate repeatedly.

Then the Joker clenches down hard as he comes with a short scream and Bruce followed soon after, the other man still clenched around him.

“W-whoa...” The Joker laughs after they both lie down on the ground as a tangled, breathless mess.

“Do that again sometimes.” Bruce laughs, equally breathless.

“Baby I reserved something special tonight.” The Joker winks, shushing Bruce as he asks if it it Batman related.

“No worries Bruce-bat. It’s jus’ you and me.” He reaches over and rubs the material of the panties still in Bruce’s pocket.

“And these.”

He slips them on and throws on his scarf, blowing a kiss at a still stunned and disheveled Bruce, and stumbles out of the office.

“It’s gonna be a long wait.” Bruce breathed to himself, the orgasm still rattling through his bones as the mid-noon sun shines bright outside the glass panels.

One hell of a long wait, but totally worth it. Every minute of it.

 


	6. 6.Be my valentine

Be my Valentine

“Now Batsy~” The Joker licks the chocolate off his glove covered fingertips. “Be patient.” He chided.

“Hurry up.” Bruce glared. He should not agree to have the Joker tie him up for a ‘Valentines speh-cial’ as the clown has put it. And at first he thought there would be torture involved. There wasn’t.

It’s worse that torture to watch your lover-enemy prance around in a lowcut black dress that is re-designed to show off his legs, ending by his knees. And Bruce has not even gotten his pants off.

The Joker takes another chocolate candy and bites it, licking his fingers again. The purple latex gloves shining in the dim yellow light.

Bruce tries to distract himself by listening to the click-click of the Joker’s high heels against the tile floor. It didn’t work. The purple boots-they were either latex or leather-fits his legs perfectly. It hugs the curve of his lower leg and stretches up, until it disappears into the folds of his dress.

“Like what you see?” The Joker teases, sitting down on the queen-sized bed and looking Bruce in the eye.

His eyes are a dark, forest green that almost glows in the dark. The make up on his face is different from the usual messy grease paint.  
A faint white powder has been applied instead, and his eyes are rimmed artfully by black kohl. His hair is still green, but less greasy and newly permed.

Blood red lipstick covers his lips and swivels up his cheeks in relation to the scars. He looks beautiful like this.

“Damn.” Bruce whispers. “Be my valentine?” The Joker grins and purrs “Every year, babe.”

He presses a soft kiss against Bruce’s lips, and pulls away before the bat could deepen it.

“Now, now Brucey” He chides. “Don’t wanna mess up my make up, now, do we?” He pulls the gloves off, placing them on the bed side table of this cosey little apartment he ‘borrowed’ for the night. The owners of this place are gonna have a ‘nice’ little surprise when they come back.

Dragging down Bruce’s suit pants, Joker placed light, fluttering butterfly touches to the man’s long and hard erection that stretches the fabric of his boxers.

“Excited?” He asks, licking his lips. “Hurry up.” Bruce grins back. With the Joker so busy here tonight-

“Oh!” Bruce gasps in surprise when cool air hits his cock and he feels a warm tongue on the head.

He watches, aroused and barely coherent with lust as red lips bobbed up and down, but never quite reaching his shaft.

Joker licks at the head like a lollipop, letting it slip in and out of his mouth while Bruce shifts restlessly and with lust beneath him.

The Joker slips the bright red panties off, and flings it into a corner of the master bed room. It’s brand new and the woman who brought it might never want to wear it again.

He lifts up his dress a bit, biting back a little moan as it brushes past his own length.

“Now, Bats-Bruce” Joker says, eyes bright. “I’m gonna sit on your cock. You want it?”

“Hurry up before I get myself out and stab you.” Bruce growls.The Joker snorts. “With what? Your meat batarang?”   
And then they both laughed until they were exhausted.

“O-oh god-”

“Meat batarang! I can’t believe-”

The skirt pooled around their legs as the Joker sits on Bruce’s lap, positioning his length against and into himself.

“It seems like I am doing all the work- ah!” He complains as he shifted in pain and pleasure until the large shaft is completely inside him.

“You can always untie me.” Bruce smirks, and shifts to avoid coming right then when the Joker moves around.

The he pushes up- hard-

“Eh!” The Joker squeaks, Bruce pushes up again and the clown pants, grinding his ass over Bruce’s thighs as the skirt continues to tangle and shift.

“Dammit-” Bruce grunts as he finally pulls free of his bindings and grabs the Joker’s gown, tearing it in places as he protested, only to be cut of by Bruce kissing him roughly.

“Not going fast enough for you?” He asks, eyes shining.

“No.” Bruce smiles and finds that Joker is smiling back. “I want you.” Bruce orders, and grips the Joker’s hips hard enough to draw blood as he thrusts up, the clown gripping his hair and moaning incoherent thoughts into his shoulder.

The rutting was fast and powerful, the men clashing their bodies together, shrieking in pleasure.

A spot was hit in him and the Joker sees stars.

White hot noise spreads through Bruce’s mind and they were the only people left in this world.

Both spent, they lie, chest to chest as the world slowly comes back into focus.

“Wha, bats, that was just, whoa-” The Joker chuckles weakly as Bruce flips him over so that he is on top, facing the Joker.

“Up for round two yet?” Bruce asks. He will never have the Joker ever question his playboy abilities.

“As ready as you are, Bats.”

They smile.

  
-A/N: So my smut just turned fluffy XD. And sucky


	7. 7. In the end, it's just you and me

In the end, it’s just you and me.- cont of Anniversary

“God, it’s been thirteen years and you still don’t forgive me?!” Bruce mumbles to the rock that is further eroded.

“I’m all alone now...” He thumbs the words on the makeshift tombstone. Most of the words are smoothed over or glazed, but Bruce could still make out some letterings.

The slab of rock with covered with crudely carved letterings sits in silence opposite him.  
Bruce opens the box of chocolate he brought and pops one in his mouth. He dug up everything. Literally moved a chunk of tile and mud and cement and rock and shipped it over to this forest.

The Joker has always liked the forest. Sometimes, when he was alive and when Bruce is not kicking him out or yelling at him or pushing him away, Bruce would take him to the forest and let him run around like he has never seen freedom before.

“I miss you.” Bruce leans against the headstone, imagining that one day he would wake up and the Joker would be there just like in the start and he could erase all his mistakes and do all the things he should have done.

“I said I was sorry, Dammit!” He kneels down as pain clenched his heart like a hand, it’s sharp claws digging in the moving mass of muscle.

Slamming his fist into the ground, Bruce gives up his self control and lets the tears flow freely out of his eyes and drip drip onto the dusty dirt.

“I-I said I was sorry, now COME BACK!” He yells, but there is no one but himself and a rock masquerading as the man he loves-loved.

“STOP IT! COME BACK!” He screams again as the birds that were resting on the tree branches scattered, scared off by the sheer pain that his voice carried.

He punched the ground again, scattering the box of chocolate candies.

Bruce breathed, hard, hitting his forehead against the rock, and watches as the blood trails down and around the crevices.

“I gave up Batman, you know.” He leans against the rock, the sharp edges digging into his hand.

“I just couldn’t- I gave you so much pain-”

He dug out the gun Bruce brought to the spot. His hands shake as he holds it almost in reverence. A way out.

Then he drops it. The handgun falls to the dust with a soft clang. It was the loudest noise Bruce has ever heard.

Would he take it? Bruce is alone. He is the one of the richest people in the world, without an anchor. Everyday he wakes up and everything is grey.

And sometimes he sees red. Hears a giggle, a flash of paint and he runs, trying to chase after the shadow, a ghost of his own failure.

He could have done it. Saved him. Instead he sees the man he loves bleed out on the pavement, the blood thick with time and a dark dark red.  
Bruce lets his cruelty overtake him. Everything is lost.

“If I can see you again...” He whispers to the trees and rocks and soil. The forest is waiting. Waiting for him to make a decision.

Bruce presses the gun against his temple. A decision. He hears a laugh in a distant corner of his mind.

Let the bullet wash away his sins and his rage. Let his blood mingle with the ashes that is buried beneath, so they can lie there, in life and in death, together.

“BANG!”

The gunshot rings across the small, sunlit spot in the outskirts of Gotham. In the city, life went on, without their star crossed lover, Gotham became a usual metropolis.

The ring of the gunshot fades with time.

The birds and beasts returned, the wind sang through the leaves that bowed to the final act.

The day slipped into night, and the bats flew out, circling the resting place of their masters.

Their wings danced in the night, to the curtain call of a tragedy.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys I am so sorry for doing this XD


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